Bright Lights on a Cold December Night
by fleurofthecourt
Summary: Monroe's attempt to put up his Christmas decorations takes an unexpected turn that lead Nick, Juliette, and Rosalee to help him out. [Nick/Monroe/Rosalee/Juliette]


Holding Monroe and Rosalee's Christmas presents close to his chest, Nick trudged up the driveway, carefully minding the patches of ice left behind from Sunday's ice storm.

After he'd knocked and been left standing on the doorstep for several minutes, he wondered if maybe he should have just taken the gifts to the Spice Shop and given them to Rosalee.

Monroe was quite obviously home. The VW was in the driveway, half the lights were on, and Christmas jazz was floating under the doorway.

In an attempt to delude himself into believing Monroe simply couldn't hear him knocking, he tried calling Monroe's cell. He heard the phone ringing, but there was no answer.

"Monroe, I know you're in there! Will you please just talk to me?" Nick shouted knocking slightly harder on the door. Still no answer.

Nick thought maybe he should just put the presents in the mailbox and call it a day. Monroe clearly wasn't ready to forgive him or whatever it was he needed to do.

Except, because Nick missed Monroe as much as he missed having Monroe's help, he moved to the window, figuring he would see Monroe putting up his decorations. He wasn't sure if it would make him feel better or simply prove he was getting closer and closer to becoming Monroe's stalker, but he had to do it.

Almost immediately, he was glad that he did.

Monroe was lying sprawled and unmoving beneath his Christmas tree, seemingly unconscious.

Thankful that Monroe hadn't asked for it back, because he really had seemed angry enough to, Nick found his spare key and let himself in.

After setting the presents down, he sprinted across the hardwood, dodging half-fallen strands of garland.

"Monroe?" he said, brushing a few pine branches and a half unraveled set of lights aside. "Monroe, are you okay?"

Monroe rolled to his side but didn't wake up.

Nick crouched down next to him and shook his shoulder. "Monroe."

"Nick?" Monroe asked dazedly, like Nick was the last person he expected to see. Truth be told he probably was. This was the first time Nick had been within arm's length of him in a month.

After using his hand to shield his eyes, presumably from the lights, though Nick wasn't ruling out that he was simply refusing to look at him, he asked sourly, "What are you doing here?"

"You don't want me here," Nick said. "I know. But I'm not leaving until you tell me how you wound up unconscious under your Christmas tree. What happened?"

"What happened?" Monroe repeated gruffly, running his hand down his face, then immediately returning his hand to eyes. "Nothing happened. I fell asleep."

"On the floor? Under your tree?" Nick asked. "You feeling okay?"

Nick imagined that if Monroe's hand wasn't over his eye, he'd be getting some kind of death-stare. But Monroe just shook his head. Then, sounding almost surprised, he said, "No, I'm not."

"Are the lights bothering you?" Nick asked.

"Yeah," Monroe said shortly.

Nick followed the tangled light strand to an extension cord and unplugged them. "Better?"

"I think it will be when I don't see them anymore," Monroe muttered, rubbing at his eyes. "What time is it?"

Nick looked at his watch. "Almost 6. Why?"

With a groan, Monroe tried to sit up but then appeared to think better of it. "It was probably 4 or so when I fell asleep."

"You mean you've been down there for 2 hours?" Nick asked. "Why weren't you waiting for Rosalee to do this anyway?"

Monroe didn't answer at first. Then averting his eyes, he said stiffly, "You don't really want to know. Don't act like you do."

Nick bit his tongue against saying that he really did want to even though it was true. He knew Monroe wouldn't believe him.

That's what this was all about, after all. Monroe didn't believe he would even want to be friends with him if it weren't for his ability to be a Grimmopedia. That Nick was merely using him for his impressive knowledge of Wesen lore.

And Nick had to admit that Monroe's argument stung not because Monroe was wrong but because he was more than a little afraid Monroe was right.

He cared a lot about Monroe; he really did. But he hardly ever talked to Monroe about things that weren't his own interest. He never asked Monroe about his clocks, his work at the Spice Shop, his myriad of other interests, and it was even a rare day when he asked how things were going between him and Rosalee. Then, although he thought this was partly out of self-preservation, he never asked Monroe about his family.

It really wasn't that he didn't care. It wasn't even completely that he didn't have an interest in knowing these things. It was that he honest to God didn't think to inquire. It was selfish, he knew, but true, nonetheless.

And, unfortunately, their mutual "interests" rarely overlapped over things other than Nick's work. Nick had become accustomed to thinking that didn't matter. One awkward dinner nearly three years ago aside, Monroe had rarely acted phased. Besides, he rambled that kind of information to Nick with little to no prompting all the time.

"Fine. Doing this doesn't mean to her what it means to me, so I wanted to get some of it done before she came home from work, not all of it like last year, but, you know, some of it."

"Yeah, Juliette said there were 42 boxes," Nick said. "That would be a little intimidating if Christmas isn't your thing."

"It's not that Christmas isn't her 'thing.'" Monroe said. He sighed and rolled slightly farther to his side, farther from Nick. "Oh, nevermind."

"Okay." Nick tentatively placed his hand on Monroe's shoulder. "Let's get you to the couch. Then I'll call Rosalee?"

Monroe harrumphed but didn't push Nick away as he pulled him out from under the tree. "Can you stand?"

"Dunno," Monroe slurred as Nick helped him sit up.

He could, as it turned out. But Nick was more than a little afraid that he was going to be knocked over by Monroe's wavering before he got him to the couch. But they did get there.

Nick dug a wool blanket out of a chest, threw it over Monroe, and pulled out his phone to call Rosalee. Before he could, Monroe's hand brushed against the bottom of his elbow. His foregone conclusions clear, he asked wearily, "Why are you here, Nick?"

That really hurt partly because Nick wasn't looking for help at the moment and partly because he would be lying if he claimed he hadn't tried to get Monroe's help on a case or three since this had started.

He glanced back at the presents, and thought he ought to tell Monroe that Juliette simply wasn't letting them get out of a gift exchange just because they were fighting. But he knew it wasn't really the truth. Juliette could have brought them or he could have taken them to Rosalee. The girls had resolutely refused to get in the middle of this. They hadn't completely escaped the crossfire, but they were staying out of it as much as they could. "Because I miss you."

Monroe rolled his eyes. He didn't believe that at all. "What do you need, Nick?"

"I don't need anything," Nick said coldly. He half thought about storming out the door, and if he wasn't partly convinced Monroe needed some kind of medical attention, he probably would have.

Stepping a few feet away from the couch and glaring at Monroe, he found Rosalee's speed dial.

"Hey Nick," Rosalee answered, "Did you need something?"

Nick pinched his eyes closed wondering why Monroe couldn't be wrong about this. "Sort of. Juliette had me bring you and Monroe's gifts over to your house, and I found Monroe asleep under the Christmas tree. I think he's sick."

"And he doesn't want you to stay," Rosalee said. It wasn't a question.

"He didn't say that," Nick said moving into the kitchen. "But it was pretty heavily implied."

"Nick, I have a delivery coming in an hour. I can't get out of here before then, so it'll be at least two hours before I can get home," Rosalee said. "Monroe's not going to like this, but you have to stay with him. There's a Wesen flu going around, and if that's what it is..."

"Rosalee?" Nick prompted as she trailed off.

"It can be pretty severe if it's left untreated, sometimes deadly. I don't want to think about it," Rosalee said. "That's another reason I need to stay here. I can make more of the medicine to treat it."

"I wouldn't worry about it just yet. For all we know, it's just a bad cold," Nick said. "What should I be looking for?"

"First your usual flu symptoms: fatigue, sore muscles, cough, congestion, fever," Rosalee listed as though she were reciting them from a textbook. "Then with your usual flu, you would get really cold and clammy but with this, your blood nearly freezes your body is so bitterly cold."

"Okay. Is there a thermometer somewhere?" Nick asked.

"In with the other medicine," Rosalee said. "We haven't moved it since you moved out."

"In the kitchen cupboard?" Nick asked. He knew there was a cabinet that Monroe kept all his vitamins in. But aside from the time that Monroe had taken care of him because he was de facto blind neither of them had really been in the market for other remedies while he'd been staying there. So he had no idea what other treasures the cabinet might hold.

"Yes. The thermometer is above the vitamins," Rosalee said patiently. He got the feeling she thought he ought to know this.

"If he does have a fever, what should I give him?" Nick asked mostly because he suspected burdock root wasn't the cure all that Monroe made it out to be. He also wasn't really sure if it had to be picked fresh or if there would be a stock in the cabinetry.

"Regular Tylenol should be fine," Rosalee said. She sounded distracted, and Nick could hear her vials clinking and wooden jars tapping against one another as she gathered ingredients for whatever she was making.

"Is there an easy way to tell if he has this flu?" Nick asked.

"When I said his blood will freeze, I meant that literally," Rosalee said. "There's a good knife next to the sink."

"You're not actually telling me to cut him, are you?" Nick asked. Even if Monroe wasn't mad at him, this seemed like a bad idea.

"I don't like it either. Believe me," Rosalee said. "But you have to. I need to know if he needs the elixir I've been making for it, and that's the only way to tell for sure."

"If it's the only way," Nick said reluctantly, "I'll get a knife."

"If he does have it," Rosalee said, "keep his fever down and keep him warm."

"I'll do what I can," Nick said, glancing back into the living room. Monroe was huddled under the blanket, shivering slightly. He noticed Nick was looking at him and turned so that he was facing the inside of the couch.

"Take care of him, Nick," Rosalee said. They were instructions that Nick knew, on some deeper level, that he hadn't been following.

"I will," Nick said.

XXX

The shop bell jingled and Rosalee winced. Business had been quiet since she'd last spoken to Nick, and she'd been grateful for it. All she wanted to do was throw herself into making medicine for Monroe and go home to him.

But she hadn't thought to change the sign on the door to Closed , so as she headed for the front counter she prayed whatever customer had turned up would be easy to turn away.

Thankfully, it turned out to be Juliette. She brushed past the shop's door and without a word, she pulled Rosalee into a tight hug.

Rosalee pressed herself into Juliette, grateful that she just knew that she needed that. Nick and Monroe had both told her that he was mostly fine, at the moment, and she probably didn't need to worry overmuch. But she also knew that Monroe did have the Freezing Flu and anything like this happening around Christmas simply sent her spiralling. Christmas was dark enough.

Juliette pulled back. "Nick called me. I thought you might want some help or some company."

"I really do. Thanks," Rosalee said. After flipping the sign over and locking the door, ensuring no further disruption, she waved for Juliette to follow her. "I've made this exact elixir nearly twenty times before, but this time, I've already had to start over twice."

It wasn't like her at all. Making remedies for people close to her rarely tripped her up. She simply removed herself from it. But, she supposed, she'd never had to do something like this for Monroe. And she kept thinking about him and how it was Christmas and what could happen instead of focusing on what she was doing.

It was pretty much all downhill from there.

"You've got to pretend like this isn't for Monroe. You know that," Juliette said. "If you can't, I can try to make the compound."

"I know. I know," Rosalee said as she leaned her knees into the counter and picked up her mortar and pestle. Then, half to Juliette, and half to herself, she whispered, "I can do this."

Juliette pressed her hand into her shoulder. "You can. Just remember that I'm here to help or take over. Whatever you need."

Rosalee smiled weakly. She really deeply appreciated Juliette's help and company. Partly because she knew Juliette was just like that, always wanting to be helpful in any way she could, and partly because she missed Juliette being around. Since Nick and Monroe had had a falling out of sorts, Juliette's visits to their house and the shop had become progressively less frequent.

She knew that eventually the two of them would sort it out because, even though it had been his idea to begin with, not really talking to or helping Nick was driving Monroe crazy. He wouldn't admit it, maybe not even to her, but, no matter how justly upset with him he was, Monroe missed Nick.

Fortunately, their ongoing fight was not even on the radar of her concerns at the moment.

She poured sodium and water into her mortar and crushed the sodium with her pestle.

Juliette leaned into the counter. "Nick said you had a delivery coming. Did you need help with it?"

"It came twenty minutes ago. I brought everything in already, but unless it couldn't be stored at room temperature, I haven't bothered putting it away yet. It's not on my list of priorities. I'll worry about it tomorrow or the next day."

Juliette looked thoughtful for a moment. "Probably a good idea. Hey, do you want some coffee? I know I need it, and you look like you need it."

"That sounds great," Rosalee said. As Juliette headed out of the room, Rosalee noted that she'd made it through the first two steps of making the elixir without error. That was one step further than her past two tries.

Things were looking up.

Well, assuming her husband wasn't dying.

XXX

Monroe wanted to strangle Nick. Tell him that he just didn't get it. But it was hopeless. On so many counts.

"You have to start where I left off and work your way to the top," Monroe said, admitting defeat. Nick just assumed he still wanted the decorations up, especially if he felt terrible. Which wasn't untrue.

But he also knew that if this got worse, and based on the cases that Rosalee had already seen at the Spice Shop, it very easily could, the decorations would be too much for her to handle.

Since he didn't have the energy to be more than frustrated with Nick or explain Rosalee's traumatic childhood Christmas, he'd decided to just bark out directions on how to get the lights on the tree.

At least if he was doing that, Nick would briefly stop fussing over him. Rosalee had said that this strain of the flu was potentially deadly so once Nick had seen the thick, almost non-flowing consistency of his blood, Nick had started hovering, becoming his completely unwanted shadow.

Despite Monroe's best attempts to push Nick away -which had been feeble at best considering he felt like he could barely move - a blanket had been thoroughly tucked around him, a fire had been built, and Tylenol and a glass of water had been administered.

His temperature had also been taken twice now.

Unsurprisingly, he had a fever that, unfortunately, had gone up instead of down. He could tell it was making Nick nervous. Hell, it was making him nervous.

Continuing to be angry with Nick took his mind off of worrying about himself. So, sullenly, he turned his head from his pillow and watched as Nick fought with the lights.

He still didn't know why Nick had really come over. And he was annoyed that because his body was a horrible traitor, he actually, despite himself, really needed Nick to stay.

His whole body ached. He was freezing, despite everything Nick had done, and even though it had been nearly two hours since Nick had found him, his eyes still hurt. Those damned colored spots simply refused to dissipate.

He'd made Nick promise not to turn the the tree on unless his eyes were closed.

Sick or not, he was never falling asleep under a Christmas tree again.

He shut his eyes and leaned back.

Not a moment later, Nick was over him. "Are your eyes really still bothering you?"

"Yeah, they really are," Monroe said.

"Hmm," Nick said. Then he walked into the kitchen.

He returned a minute later and draped a warm, damp washcloth over Monroe's eyes. "That help?"

He didn't answer initially, hoping that Nick would realize he was still upset with him. But apparently that was an invitation for Nick to just stand over him and stare. So, because it really had made a world of difference, he said, "I think maybe. Yeah."

He expected that to be that and for Nick to go back to the tree, but, no, Nick sat down on the floor next to the couch. "Monroe, can we talk?"

"Really, Nick?" Monroe asked. He'd had a pretty severe headache to begin with, but he was pretty sure it had just become five times worse. "We're going to do this now?"

"Hey, this is the first time you've really talked to me in three weeks. I'm not missing my chance," Nick said.

"Yeah because I'm currently your captive, unwilling, and feverish audience," Monroe said, crossing his arms on top of the blanket before immediately pulling them back underneath it.

"You could kick me out. You'd probably be fine until Rosalee got home," Nick said bitterly. "I'm never here for you, right?"

"Nick, don't," Monroe said. "This isn't the same and you know it."

"You're right. It's not," Nick said. Then he turned around and leaned his head against the couch's armrest with a heavy sigh. He was quiet for the length of an instrumental but overly cheerful Holly Jolly Christmas .

"Look, Monroe, I'm really sorry," Nick said. "I'm sorry that I take for granted that you can always drop whatever you're doing to help me. I'm sorry that I've put you and Rosalee in danger more times than was probably warranted. I'm sorry that I'm not particularly good at actually being a friend to you. And I'll leave as soon as Rosalee gets home. And I'll leave you alone after that. I promise."

It sounded like all of this had really been eating away at Nick, and now Monroe felt a little guilty that he hadn't listened to him before. Though maybe that had pushed some of this realization along. He'd never know. He pulled his arm out and rested his hand on Nick's shoulder.

"Nick, I don't want that. Really," Monroe said. "I don't want to not be friends with you. I just want you to try harder to be friends with me. You're probably not as terrible at it as you think you are, I mean, I've put up with you forever, but I'd definitely be lying if I said you were 100 % there."

"Okay. Well, if you have any beginning advice, I'm all ears," Nick said, turning around and giving Monroe a warm grin.

"Well, for starters, really listen to why I don't want you to put the decorations up right now," Monroe said.

Five minutes later, Nick was glaring at him. "Monroe, now if I don't put them up, it's like I think you're dying. So I'm putting them up because you're going to be fine. Between Rosalee and I, we are not letting anything happen to you."

"Dude, you've got some nifty powers, but controlling my immune system isn't remotely one of them," Monroe said. "This is totally out of your control."

"Well, I wish it weren't," Nick said with a sigh. "How do you feel anyway?"

"Not great," Monroe said. "Though really not that different than earlier. Possibly better since I'm not asleep on the cold, hardwood floor anymore."

"That would certainly help," Nick said. "I'm sorry if this is driving you crazy, but I really prefer my friends to be alive. So we're taking your temperature again, and then I'm going to call Rosalee because she really should have been back by now. Juliette even went to help her."

"Huh," Monroe said, rubbing at his forehead before taking the thermometer out of Nick's hand. "That's not like Rosalee at all."

XXX

Juliette sat on one of the stools on the other side of the Spice Shop's counter, quietly sipping at her coffee as Rosalee worked, occasionally looking up to make sure Rosalee still had that look of deep focus and concentration.

She wished that this elixir was a job for two people because she knew it was stressing Rosalee out. If she hadn't run in and out of the Spice Shop the day before last without a word to Rosalee, because she had looked so harried, she would have thought it was just about Monroe.

But since she had, she wasn't so sure.

"Rosalee, does this flu come on suddenly?" Juliette asked.

"Usually, yes," Rosalee said without looking up. "That's why it really knocks you out. You feel fine and then like all your energy has been zapped. And why people often end up falling asleep in strange places."

Like under your Christmas tree Juliette thought but decided it was probably wise not to say.

"Can you watch this?" Rosalee asked. "It just needs to turn a light shade of pink. I'm running to the back for a moment."

"Sure," Juliette said. She glanced at Rosalee and noticed that Rosalee looked a little pale. She couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was off, and she kept wondering if Rosalee had this flu as well. She hoped not.

As she watched the liquid turning from a milky white substance to a pink shade that suggested Rosalee had done her job perfectly, she turned for the back of the shop.

She heard what was unmistakably the sound of Rosalee throwing up. Hurrying to the bathroom door she knocked lightly, "You okay in there?"

Rosalee pushed the door open as she turned on the faucet and ran warm water over her face. "I think I am now."

"This isn't a symptom of the flu is it?" Juliette asked.

"No, it's...I don't know what it is," Rosalee said. "I think I was just stressed out, but that's never made me throw up before. I haven't thrown up in years, and this is twice in a week."

"Huh," Juliette said, growing slightly suspicious. "What caused it the first time?"

"Cabbage rolls," Rosalee said making a face. "You can't tell Monroe. He worked really hard on them."

"I'm sworn to secrecy," Juliette said. Then with her voice heavy with implication, she asked, "Are you sure there couldn't be another reason?"

"What?" Rosalee said. Then she caught on. "Oh, no. I couldn't be...could I? We only just started trying."

"You're trying?" Juliette asked with a sudden surge of excitement. "Aww. I'm so excited for you guys."

Rosalee's face had taken on a mix of so many emotions that Juliette couldn't figure out which one was winning. Finally she just rested her hand on her stomach, looked down, and said, "Oh god. Am I?"

"Well, we can stop at a convenient store on the way to your house," Juliette said as she poured the elixir into a bottle. "I'll drive."

Suddenly Rosalee gripped Juliette's shoulder really tightly. "What am I going to do if I am and Monroe's...not...not okay?"

Her voice broke, and Juliette could tell it was taking everything she had not to start crying as they walked out of the shop. Juliette sort of wished she hadn't said anything.

She gripped both of Rosalee's shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. "You're both going to be fine."

Then although she didn't have the ability to do anything other than wish good things onto Rosalee, she said, "I'll do whatever is in my power to make sure of it."

She wished on every star hanging over them in the cold December air that this would be a good Christmas for all of them.

XXX

"There you guys are," Nick said as he pulled the door open for Rosalee and Juliette. "Why didn't either of you answer your phones? I was starting to think about calling Hank and having him track you down."

"Sorry, Nick," Juliette said as she handed him a vial of what he could only assume was medicine for Monroe. "Rosalee and I have something we have to do upstairs. We'll be back."

"We're doing this first?" Rosalee asked as she hesitated at the foot of the steps and glanced at the sound asleep Monroe.

"Yes, we definitely are," Juliette said as she ran up the steps. She turned back when she was nearly to the top and said, "2 teaspoons, if he wakes up."

"Okay," Nick said watching the girls in bewilderment before setting the elixir on the coffee table and heading into the kitchen to find a measuring spoon.

As he headed back into the living room, Monroe was rubbing at his eyes. Nick sighed. He'd only been asleep for maybe twenty minutes, which, although long enough for Nick to get out most of the tracks for the model train, seemed less than ideal. He blinked at Nick. "Did Rosalee come in or am I hearing things?"

"Don't worry. You're not hearing things," Nick said sitting down on the table across from him. "She and Juliette were acting really weird, though. I guess we'll have to wait to find out why. In the meanwhile..."

He measured out the medicine and handed it to Monroe. Monroe sniffed at it, looked repulsed, and then lifted it as though he were giving a toast, "To my health, I guess."

Nick grinned and nodded in agreement. "I think I'll pass on drinking to my health at the moment."

Monroe grimaced as he swallowed. "Fair enough."

They both turned their heads as the sound of footsteps signaled the girls coming back downstairs. Juliette was smiling from ear to ear, and Rosalee was trying her hardest to suppress a grin.

Juliette came up and tugged at Nick's sleeve. "Let's leave them alone for a minute."

Nick followed her into the kitchen. "What was that all about?"

"I didn't say you couldn't eavesdrop," Juliette said, leaning against the kitchen's open door frame.

"Already," Monroe asked, totally elated, "Really?"

"Really," Rosalee said warmly. Then slightly anxiously, "Hey, you don't need to get up."

"Don't get up? We're having a kid together," Monroe said. "I have to hug you."

Nick turned to Juliette. "Rosalee's pregnant?"

Juliette nodded.

"They've been planning this," Nick said, shaking his head at himself. "This is why Monroe was so upset that I kept putting off helping him clean out the spare room upstairs. He probably wanted to talk about it too."

Then he asked, "Did you tell Rosalee you were too?

"No. I didn't want to overshadow," Juliette said. "She needs a good Christmas to make up for the ones she's had in the past, and I think this will go a long way towards helping."

"Yeah, Monroe told me about when she was 7," Nick said. "I can't believe I didn't know."

Juliette punched his shoulder. "I can't believe you didn't either."

"I think I could stand to hear a lot of that," Nick said with a resigned sigh.

"Does that mean you and Monroe kissed and made-up, then?" Juliette asked.

"Well, I don't know about kissed," Nick said looking into Juliette's warm, sparking grey eyes. "How were you picturing this apology going exactly?"

Instead of answering, Juliette pressed her lips to the left corner of his mouth and leaned into him.

As he drew back, he said, "Interesting."

XXX

As Monroe leaned back into the couch, a grin still spreading from ear to ear, Rosalee tucked the blanket back around him and brushed her hand over his forehead. She furrowed her brow.

"Hey, don't worry about me. Worry about you," Monroe said. "Oh god. I shouldn't have hugged you. You probably shouldn't be anywhere near me."

"No, I probably shouldn't," Rosalee said, reluctantly inching away. "I made enough of that elixir for both of us, in case. I believe we're both going to be okay, though."

"Nick promise you that?" Monroe asked with a wan smile

"Juliette did, actually," Rosalee said with a short laugh. "But that's not what I was talking about. Usually if this flu is going to go south it does within the first couple hours. I'd feel better if your fever went down, but really, I think you're out the woods."

Nick and Juliette reappeared in the doorway. Nick tapped on it lightly. "We don't want to interrupt anything, but I hear congratulations are in order?"

"They really are," Monroe said. Then he said with a surprised sounding slur, that seemed mostly directed at himself, "I'm going to be a dad."

Juliette sat down on the foot of the couch and lifted Monroe's legs onto her lap. "Congrats, you'll be great at it."

Nick went up to Rosalee and hugged her. "Really, Rosalee, congratulations."

"Thanks," Rosalee said, pressing herself into Nick's solid form as her eyes suddenly starting watering.

He pulled her closer and rubbed at her back. He whispered, "You okay?"

"I think so. Just overwhelmed," Rosalee said, trying to sort out her emotions, though it proved trying. "It's been an...unexpected evening."

"I think it's about to be more so," Juliette said. Then she turned to Monroe conspiratorially. "What do you think, Monroe?"

Monroe laughed. "I think she's right. As long as it's not too much."

"As long as what isn't too much?" Nick asked. He, thankfully, looked as confused as Rosalee felt.

"Look up," Juliette and Monroe said simultaneously, impishly.

Rosalee snorted. Nick shook his head. They were standing beneath mistletoe.

Without a word, the two of them pulled apart and remained standing awkwardly beneath the green and red foliage, their partners watching with amused interest.

"I know you guys haven't done as much with the Christmas decorations as I have, but traditionally you kiss when you're underneath it," Monroe said.

Nick glanced warily back at the couch. "You guys really want us to do this?"

"Go on," Juliette said, waving him forward encouragingly.

"Rosalee?" Nick asked.

"We are under the mistletoe," Rosalee admitted, and she knew she'd be lying if she claimed she didn't want Nick to kiss her. However, she was worried that Monroe and Juliette weren't as okay with this as they were letting on.

Feeling a little like they were preparing for a very weird duel, she and Nick moved towards each other slowly. Ultimately deciding that was only going to make it worse, she put her hands on his shoulders and leaned into him completely. Their lips met, and she expected it to end a moment later. But apparently she hadn't been the only one that had wanted it. It was good and long and she wanted more.

She sensed the feeling was mutual, but, finally, they pulled away and looked doubtfully back at Monroe and Juliette.

Outwardly, they didn't seem phased. Honestly, she thought they might even look pleased.

But she felt it was better to be safe than sorry. She pulled the mistletoe down and placed it over the couch.

"Juliette can't get the flu," Rosalee said. "She's not Wesen."

"Don't move, Monroe. I'll come to you," Juliette said pulling herself off the couch.

She sat on the floor by Monroe's head as he leaned forward. She brushed his hair back and cupped his face in her hands before drinking in his lips and lingering. Rosalee was a little jealous, but she wasn't sure of who.

Juliette pulled back and rested one hand on Monroe's shoulder as Monroe wrapped the blankets around himself more thoroughly. "We shouldn't be doing this right now."

"It's okay," Monroe slurred his eyes falling closed.

Juliette looked up at Rosalee. "Do you want me or maybe Nick to stay here tonight? Monroe was right that you should probably keep your distance from him."

"And you implied that he really shouldn't be left alone," Nick added.

"He probably shouldn't," Rosalee agreed. Then with a glance at her now sleeping husband, she thought of the coming year and how much was probably going to change. She knew, as she had the year before, that Christmas was never going to be easy for her, but she wanted it to be better. Because Monroe needed that. Because their child was eventually going to need that. Because she felt like she needed that. "If you guys both want to stay awhile, I have an idea. A new tradition."

"What's that?" Nick asked.

"I imagine Monroe would like to help, but I was thinking the four of us could decorate together. There's so much here, and ..." Rosalee trailed off.

"And you need a little help with Christmas spirit?" Nick asked. "I don't blame you. Death really gives the holidays a bleak color."

"I didn't know you knew," Rosalee said.

"Monroe told me earlier," Nick said. "You can talk about it while we put up this model train, if you want. I think I'll understand better than these two did." He waved past Juliette and Monroe. "I spent a lot of Christmases missing my parents."

"Oh, Nick," Rosalee said. "I didn't even think."

"It's okay. Really," Nick said. "I mean, I think my mom is coming into town this year, though that e-mail was more cryptic than usual."

"I still think she wanted us to meet her in Singapore," Juliette said.

"Well, that's not a risk I'm willing to take right now," Nick said with a meaningful glance at Juliette's abdomen.

Juliette glanced back at him warningly. Rosalee had her suspicions about that but decided not to ask.

XXX

"Feeling better?" Nick asked as he sat down on the couch next to Monroe and handed him a plate of eggs and eggs.

"Marginally. I'm up, and novelty of novelties, you're feeding me," Monroe said. Then glancing around the room for the fourth time, "And you guys finished putting up all the decorations?"

"Are you happy or disappointed about that?" Nick asked.

"Kind of both," Monroe said. "I wanted to do it, but I don't really have the energy."

"That's kind of what we were figuring," Rosalee said yawning as she sat down on a chair on the other side of the room. "That and that you would want it done sooner rather than later."

"Well, it is Christmas Eve now, isn't it?" Monroe asked.

"It is. You didn't sleep through Christmas or anything," Nick said patting Monroe's shoulder. "We promise."

Juliette walked in nursing a cup of coffee. She set it down to pick up two presents off of the floor. "I think Nick forgot to give these to you guys."

"I did," Nick said. He took them and handed them to their respective owners.

Rosalee set hers aside. "We have ones for you guys as well. Let me go get them."

Nick nudged Monroe's shoulder. "You still got me a present?"

"I was kind of hoping to not be mad at you forever. Whatever else you are, you're kind of my best friend," Monroe said.

"I don't know if this will make you feel better or worse about how terrible I am at it, but you're also kind of mine," Nick said wrapping his arm over his shoulder and pulling him to his side. "Merry Christmas, Monroe."


End file.
